Betrayal at House on the Hill

[angelcage]

[ You sleep, the ground cold beneath your cheek. The ground is hard as stone, cold marble beneath a fine layer of dust that doesn't come anywhere near acting as a cushion. The dust stirs with your breathing.


>> Wake up ]

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ENTRANCE HALL - GROUND LEVEL

[angelcage]

[ When your eyes are opened, you will find you're not alone. There are others here- eight others. Some of you have been handcuffed together-- the metal inscribed with strange glyphs that hurt to look at directly. ]


[You've awakened in an unfamiliar place-- the floor of a Grand Entrance Hall. Or a formerly grand one, the tears in the silk wallpaper, the marble much abused. There's three headless statues, shattered pieces of what must have once been their heads in sharp white shards dashed across the floor. There's one final pedestal, probably meant for a fourth statue. But upon that stand is instead a note, sealed with an unfamiliar wax seal, the pattern of iron gates pressed into it.


Further down the hall a red carpet lolls like a tongue down a grand staircase. On the left side of the hall, there are two doors: mirrored across on the right side, there are two more. ]

[dendarii]

[ Here's a unique looking fellow. Miles Vorkosigan is a frail little slip of a man, maybe 4'9" at most and rather gaunt. And, like most people here, he looks completely bewildered. Is he dreaming? Surely this must be a dream, because the last thing he remembers is ...

Wait. Is he handcuffed right now? ]

What the hell is going on here?

[runawaystory]

[a woman nicely dressed in clothes straight out of the 1930s, though now a bit marred by dust and sleeping on the floor]

That's what I'd like to know too.

[withintreason]

[ handcuffed, apparently, to this person. you can't tell who the fuck they are though, in terms of features -- man, woman, young, old. they're just, relatively short, but i mean in comparison to you they're not short at all. 5'1", to be precise. ]

That's my question.

[ by the by, they. have a sword! nice. ]

[dishonestliving]

Did you forget to pay back your debts? They don't like it when you don't pay back your debts.

Re: ENTRANCE HALL - GROUND LEVEL

[runawaystory]

[Among the group -- not handcuffed -- is a woman in her twenties, dressed in a smart skirt suit right out of the 1930s. Her hands are hidden by a pair of gloves. The smartness of her clothes is somewhat marred by the dust and dirt and, you know, sleeping on a beat-up marble floor.

She wakes up, and promptly sneezes. Loudly. Dust, it's a thing.

And then she looks around.]

...Um. Um.

Re: ENTRANCE HALL - GROUND LEVEL

[withintreason]

[ this person -- short, but the rest of their features are hidden away in their full body armor. there's a handcuff attaching them to someone. who the fuck ]

Hah?

[ even their voice is distorted by the armor, enough that you can't tell any distinctive features from them -- woman or man, young or old. all you can tell is -- they're pretty angry. ]

What the hell is this shit?

[court_chesster]

...Is it Halloween already?

[Says the man in a clown costume.]

[dishonestliving]

I think you're lost. The Met's up on the east side, you see.

[court_chesster]

[As if this place wasn't spooky enough, there's a clown in here, complete with a pink-and-purple striped costume, one of those neck poof things, and full face makeup. Though to be fair, he looks just as confused and alarmed as anybody else.]

Is this some kind of joke?

[runawaystory]

[adding to the costume party, here's a woman dressed like she stepped out of the 1930s.]

Not a good one, if so.

[dendarii]

[ Clowns, really. Miles raises an eyebrow. ]

I hope not. It's rather elaborate if so.

[dishonestliving]

I'm pretty sure you're the one who's supposed to be serving up the laughs, buddy.

[dishonestliving]

[A redhead dressed in sateen formalwear and paste jewelry rustles herself upright, looking around blearily. Though once she blinks away some of the confusion, she lets out an exasperated huff.]

If I had a dollar for every time I woke up on the floor of some once-great hall, I'd be able to afford a once-great hall of my own...

Alright, what's going on, which one of you got us into this mess?

1/2

[runawaystory]

Don't look at me.

[she answers automatically...]

2/2

[runawaystory]

[...and then her memory catches up to her ears, and--]

Wait.

Ivy???

[trashenough]

[ Continuing the costume party theme apparently, one of those eight is a teen boy dragged in from halloween band practice, or something. Seriously, drums?

When he wakes, he shoots up to sitting with a verbal exhale, drums jostling. ]

Huh?! What the heck?

[ He tries to rub the back of his head, but lo and behold when he moves his arm, he jostles the person he's handcuffed to — another teen boy in a really stupid outfit.. Surprise, and recognition, and a short line of concern (what kind of a name is Three anyway) before he glances around.

Weird place. Tugs a little at handcuff. Tugs a little at weird guy he's with. Looks around again. What the heck.

Just. Forces III up when he stands, and then hauls him onto his back (between the drums) — it takes effort and some gymnastics but Yuma winds up with one of III's arm crossed over his own chest like a seatbelt for the sake of the handcuffs.

If there's anyone else still sleeping he's gonna nudge them with his foot a couple times, but since there's nobody awake in the room... ]

Uhhh... which door...?

[ Two on the left, two on the right, a staircase in the middle... left, or right... left, or right... ]

No point thinking about it! Let's go, III!

[ Even with the unconscious solider-boy on his back, Yuma... takes off into a dead sprint... up the central staircase... he is probably shouting.............. Yuma why. ]

[angelcage]

The bare upper landing

AFTER EXPLORING THE CONSERVATORY AND/OR HIS FREAKING GRAVE

[court_chesster]

[Dirt-caked clown is looking spooked!]

[dishonestliving]

Well, that was fun.

[trashenough]

[ Yuma and his still-unconscious companion make it back down to the first floor. He takes deep, deep breaths, trying to get the scent of blood out of his nose and dust out of his lungs. His cuffed arm is starting to ache a little, but he bears the rest of III's weight well enough.

More nervous now than before, his glance shoots from statue to statue, uneasy. ]

We're getting out of here.

[ He picks a door at random, one to the right (east) of the staircase. ]

Through here?

[angelcage]

[ Yuma has found the Mystic Elevator ]

Re: ENTRANCE HALL - GROUND LEVEL

[runawaystory]

[Returning from the organ room.

finally. safe. feeling a bit guilty about having abandoned Miles since...he'd been really helpful and stuff...but...

having a conscience sucks, do not recommend.

maybe she should at least go back and check on them...? maybe just. peer inside but not actually re-enter.]

[angelcage]

[ She enters the abandoned room again, to see the Knight hacking away at a skull, while on fire. . Miles is sleep-walking besides the knight, hand being pulled along in the movements of the knight's sword strokes. ]

Re: ENTRANCE HALL - GROUND LEVEL

[runawaystory]

[return from the ballroom! relieved that the bugs were fake while also unnerved by how real they felt. this is why she hates all magic things, ever.

taking a moment to smooth her hair and resettle her clothes and, most crucially, calm her nerves.

looking around the shards of marble -- are there any that look like they'd be suitable to use as a weapon?]